One Love for Hattori Heiji
by Rorie
Summary: A series of oneshots featuring Hattori Heiji with any and all other characters from DC or MK. Prior: Kazuha, Jodie. Pairing 3: HeijiKaito Kid. The Art of Psychological Warfare: All's fair in love and oneupmanship.
1. Kazuha: Destiny

The first in a series of one-shots pairing Hattori Heiji with any and all other DC/MK characters. Kazuha's the canon love interest, so I thought I'd get her out of the way early since I'm not a big fan of the usually boring orthodox pairings. Has references to Movie 7, but doesn't really spoil anything.

Any and all characters will be featured from here on out.

I don't own any of these characters.

This time: Heiji/Kazuha. Destiny: Heiji makes a joke at a most inappropriate time.

* * *

Destiny 

The mocking joviality of the face in front of her was enough to marshal her battered nerves into some sense of restored normality. Turbulent thoughts and emotions that had been out of control just seconds before coalesced, bending back to their owner's will. Her instinctive knee-jerk reaction, previously held at bay while she was stuck in mental anguish, emerged as the cycle was interrupted by the weasel-like false smile and well-concealed evil of the man in front of her. No longer a naïve teenager, she thought, she could see through such a flimsy disguise instantly. Despite her glee at having broken free from her depressingly self-perpetuating thoughts, there was no way the idiot who dared disrupt her at this crucial time would escape unscathed.

"No, ahou, I don't want it supersized!"

Any and all real intentions of the confused cashier in front of her mattered not, as he watched perplexedly her dismissive jerking of her tray away from the pick-up area. She left a trail of sweat-dropping, still-waiting customers in her wake, and she slammed the door to the patio with enough force to crack a few of the bricks on the exterior of the building. The door to the outdoor play area was crowded during this busy lunch hour next to the university in downtown Osaka, yet her mere presence and flaming angry aura was enough to clear the brightly-colored plastic jungle in seconds. Muttering angrily about the rudeness and incompetence of food servers, expanding that thought to men, then to people of the world in general, she proceeded to devour the greasy meal she'd ordered.

As the meal progressed, her anger receded, leading her back to the dangerous thoughts that had so incensed her in the first place. She was graduating from the university in mere weeks, yet still had no idea what she wanted to do with her life. By age 22, she'd always expected to be further along in her life, not still miserably alone and unsure of herself. Admittedly, the two problems were wrapped up in each other, and in the cause of both, one former teenage detective named Hattori Heiji.

They were both children of police officers, and had grown up as playmates. She had always felt a special fondness for the dark-skinned detective, and had thought he reciprocated that feeling. Yet recent events seemed to dictate otherwise.

After years of waiting, dating other people to make him jealous, watching him succeed and being unable to focus on her own situation since she was so inextricably caught up in his brilliance, the moment she'd been waiting for since her early teens had finally arrived.

Hattori Heiji had confessed to her.

So why was she so unhappy?

Having appeased her appetite, she deposited her trash in its appropriate bin and pulled out her cell phone. She decided to walk back to the university and make some decisions, damnit. First on the list was whether or not she'd forgive the ahou that she still loved, despite the inelegant and frankly insulting confession she'd received from him.

_She furiously snapped the cell phone closed and turned to face the culprit and future victim of her ire. She paused as soon as she laid eyes on him. Her arm still raised accusingly in the air, her eyes grew large and her jaw dropped open. Was that really Heiji? _

_He was uncompromising in his principles, always putting comfort or practicality above manners or politeness. This extended to his bearing, speech, and more relevantly, his choice in clothing. His entire wardrobe consisted of worn jeans, loose shirts and suitably warm sweaters to pair with sensible sneakers; his one concession was a single plain suit for any and all special occasions. As he said, who knew when he'd have to chase down and bring the next lawbreaker to justice? Hell, he only changed out of jeans to practice kendo! Therefore, whoever was responsible for his current outfitting was deserving of a medal, and barring the possibility of that, her eternal gratitude. Spring was still crisp, yet he had a much tighter than normal short-sleeved polo with slacks and comfortable-looking dress shoes. He was looking very good, and as she let her arm fall back to her side she finally processed that one, he was dressed up, and two, he was meeting her. This required her to interact with him. Nursing her wounded pride behind a mask of false anger, she worked herself back up to reflect the mask truly, back to the state she'd been pre-biceps, err, pre-Heiji's arrival. He took in her reaction with amusement, smirking behind a hand raised to his mouth, as he reached the limits of his own tenable courtesy._

_The gesture successfully seeped her back in the anger she'd so recently been shocked out of. Crossing her arms and turning her head up and away from him, she complained verbally while mentally she was torn between her righteous anger, his cleaned-up handsomeness, and confusion as to the current state of affairs. He never dressed up when she asked him to, after all. _

"_You're late again! Ahou! You were the one who invited me out and set the time! Where are we going that you have to look like that, anyway?"_

_Putting both his hands in his pockets, revealing his smirk to her one-eyed peeking, he turned his head to the side and responded in a fashion mockingly reminiscent of her earlier imperious tone. _

"_Can't figure it out, eh? Don't worry, I'll lead you to the evidence. First stop, the park."_

_They spent the next few hours walking around the city and revisiting places of significance. Where they'd played as kids, where Heiji'd lived before his father was promoted, where Heiji'd protected her after she'd twisted her ankle, where she'd almost admitted she liked him… All of a sudden, she was reeling with insight. Heiji had been constantly watching her, and definitely saw this realization show up on her face if his renewed smirk could be counted as evidence. She closed her eyes to avoid the spinning, but the persistent vertigo had her swooning until she felt warm arms support her waist before she could crash to the ground. Opening her eyes both in confusion and in anticipation, Heiji leaned close and said, "All right, time for the last stop."_

_She followed him dazedly as he walked to the nearest train station and bought them tickets to Kyoto. She couldn't decide whether this development was good or not, as the only connections they had to Kyoto were his first love and her cousins, and chances were that he was going to confirm the identity of the former rather than unexpectedly drop in on the latter. This caused the churning in her to move from her head to her stomach. Though she'd always wondered about the identity of the child who'd left such a strong impression on Heiji, she was more afraid to actually know. She'd pestered him about it endlessly since he'd admitted to knowing, but his stubbornness ensured that these attempts were failures. Now, she hadn't demanded it of him, but he was going to reveal it to her anyway._

_These thoughts kept her mood downcast through the entire almost two hour ride. Heiji himself stayed suspiciously quiet, excusing himself only once to take a quick walk. She barely noticed, as dark thoughts pervaded her mind, literally creating her own personal raincloud, as they fed her overactive imagination. The train eventually reached their station. Just as she suspected__, the doors opened and he led her to the temple where he'd met his first love._

_Nervous and uncharacteristically shy, she clasped her hands together and looked down at the sakura petal-covered ground. Heiji leaned against the tree that had spawned the petals and was silent. When she finally gathered the courage to look at him, she was surprised to see that he was gazing at her. What had she been so worried about before? Here was peace, here was calm, here was Heiji and his lovely eyes that drowned out the past and her apprehension. They continued to stare into each others' eyes for a few silent moments, understanding flowing between them as the petals continued to swirl and dance around them on the light breeze. It also caught her hair, causing her to reach up to sweep her bangs out of her eyes. Their gaze broke, and Heiji looked up at the tree's branches quickly, only to tense up. He seemed to come to a decision, and she realized he had been preparing himself to say something there at the tree, and perhaps had been preparing all day long._

_ He turned to her and she broke out into a grin, because she knew that her deduction was flawless. _

"_I love you, Kazuha. You were meant for me."_

_He'd finally done it! And in such a perfect, romantic way! She'd never have believed it to be possible of him. That's right, she thought absently, his friend Kudou Shinichi just got engaged to Ran-chan, maybe he had helped out. _

_Leaving those thoughts to ponder at a more appropriate time, she noted with excitement that the gap between them was lessening. She hadn't even realized she was moving until she had closed half of the distance still separating them. That was when he decided to finish his already perfect confession. He put the opposite charge on the mood by uttering four simple, devastating, damning words._

_"Perhaps as a punishment."_

_He even had the nerve to chuckle as he said them. _

_Color rose in her face and her ecstatic joy changed instantly into burning resentment. She shook her head, and when she looked back up at him, her eyes were glowing red and she'd somehow acquired demonic horns. He seemed to realize that she was now very dangerous, but was unable to pull away in time to avoid his just punishment. She launched herself across the remaining distance between them and smacked him resoundingly across his left cheek._

"_That's my line, you unmitigated jerk!" The anger drained away as fast as it had appeared, flowing down her face in the form of tears due to the abrupt reversal in emotions. She added, "Heiji no baka!" and tore off back to the train station. She had managed to escape on a train back to Osaka and successfully avoid him for the indeterminate future._

Now, the day after, the anger had mostly left her and she considered her own reactions. She gripped her cell phone in her hand as she entered the university grounds. It was, yet again, her pride that kept her from admitting that she'd overreacted a little. Well, more than a little. A lot. Fine, she'd overreacted a hell of a lot! But she'd been anxious at the tree, after everything else he'd subjected her to that day. They'd barely even bantered, that's how out of it she had been! But that was all beside the point.

The point... was if she going to let her split-second decision to be selfish and grudging keep her from the man she loved?

Deciding anew to correct her mistake, and better late than never, she thought, she headed back out of the university towards the park, the site of their first excursion on that fateful day, which was incidentally the previous day.

She still had a lot to decide about her future, but she would like to do that with her most important person helping her decide. She didn't have to be alone anymore. As she pulled out her cell phone to reach out the olive branch out to the idiot who'd got up the guts to tell her that he loved her, she figured the least she could do was tell him that she loved him, too.

* * *

Endnotes: My first work, and it was the drudge work. I'm not sure that either of them have any character at all, since I perceive Kazuha as mostly Oni-Kazuha as I'm sure you could see: indignation and bickering wrapped up in one neat, jealous almost-girlfriend. Yeah, Heiji wasn't even really in this. Sigh. I'm sure I'll enjoy other pairings to come better. Next up, I'm working on Jodie-sensei. Heheh. 

This was spawned from an image in my head of Shinichi coaching Heiji on how to confess. I ended up writing it from Kazuha's point of view, otherwise you'd have seen Heiji's thought-bubble with Shinichi's Kuroba-esque grin and thumbs-up running through Heiji's mind at the tree. I'd planned to hide Shinichi in the bushes, with Ran behind him to keep him in line, of course, smacking his palm to his head at Heiji's unnecessary final statement, but decided the Detective of the East would consider that too intrusive. Though I did keep his bolstering phone call on the train, if you were wondering about that.

Heiji's confession is courtesy of Despair dot com as much as I'd love to claim it.


	2. Jodie S: Fated Encounter

Dai Ni-Ban Chapter (Chapter 2): Heiji/Jodie S. Fated Encounter: Kudou can't give Jodie the comfort she needs, so as his proxy, Hattori gets called in.

Warnings: language (in more ways than one) and partial nudity? Well, not really.

Inspired by the second to last panel of 609, Conan's face as Jodie walks away after giving him his cell phone back. I doubt he'd leave the situation like that, thus this was spawned. Please forgive my attempt at preserving Heiji's accent.

Translations of Japanese follow the Japanese immediately like this: Nihongo (Japanese).

Spoilers for manga all the way up to chapter 609, and at least episode 345 of the anime.

* * *

Fated Encounter 

As a Bureau agent, her training for the Japanese mission had been relentlessly thorough. In her cover as an American English teacher, however, her standards were even higher. She'd been glad of the assignment, since she did enjoy languages, and thought that the missions thus far had worked out well. Then had come that horrible Friday the 13th. It was better not to think of that day, but here she was, in some nondescript ramen stand, trying without success to drink herself into oblivion as the inescapable memory of that day ran through her mind with ruthless persistence.

Looking down at her barely touched bowl, she was forced to admit that while her pre-mission linguistic training had been exactingly scrupulous, her cultural training had been overlooked. She could talk to anyone for the information she needed, get herself anywhere in the country, or even intelligently contribute to historical or political discussions, but there were still places she'd never be able to blend in. Like here at the ramen stand, trying to eat her noodles. Even after all these months here in Japan...

She couldn't use chopsticks.

She supposed that the alcohol wasn't helping her coordination either.

But she had an excuse, she thought mournfully. _Shuu is gone._ She slammed her money down on the bar before taking a final swig from her glass, giving up on the impossible-to-eat dish. Looking down, she furiously swiped her arm across her eyes and planted both arms on the bar to lever herself off of her seat. The trip back to her apartment was longer that usual; she couldn't see where she was going with her left hand cradling her head. Her legs suddenly decided to give their best impressions of the ramen noodles she'd earlier been so unsuccessful at subduing as her right arm reached out for the wall at her side. Conceding once again, she turned her back and leaned up against the wall, heedless of the thronging Tokyo crowd in front of her. It was there that the memories she'd been running away from finally caught up to her and for once, she let the tears flow.

Appropriately enough, a light rain started up, disguising her tears and causing the crowd around her to disperse quickly. Those lucky enough to already be toting umbrellas continued peacefully to their destinations, with the exception of one. As an agent, she should have seen his interested gaze long before now. She spitefully blamed the ramen for the embarrassment and cursed the interjector for his interruption of her solo pity party. She stubbornly refused to look up and hoped the man hovering above her would get the message. After an indeterminate length of silence, he finally met her expectations and proved that he didn't understand the finer points of subtlety.

"It's Agent Jodie, ain't it? Need an umbrella?"

That voice was familiar. If she hadn't had those last three drinks, she was sure she could remember the name it belonged to as well. The squinting of her eyes accompanied the raising of her chin, but she was blinded by the lights of the still-peaceful if slightly wet city and couldn't visually identify him. Incorrectly interpreting this as an acceptance of his help, he grabbed her arm and awkwardly assisted her to her feet. Once again with her back to the wall of the building, she crossed her arms in front of her chest and glared as hard as she could, which luckily was one skill whose proficiency increased after drinking. The familiar yet clueless stranger apparently thought so, too.

"Hey, calm down there. I just wanted to help ya get home, alright? Grab my arm, I remember the way."

The fog surrounding her thoughts was starting to become quite troublesome. Her daft defender had just given her a lot of information to work with, so she began to put her copious Bureau-taught reasoning techniques into practice. Once she realized she was just staring at the peculiar way rain was hitting her shoes as she walked forward, she realized further that the man had taken her continued silence as acquiescence, yet another mistaken assumption, and she determined she should perhaps take things a little more simply. She apparently wasn't capable of thinking properly due to the inebriation.

She thought back to the beginning of their interaction – he had addressed her as "Agent Jodie," so he knew of her profession. That limited the suspects considerably. Quickly taking in the profile of the insistent man who was guiding her like a child to her own apartment, she noted from the breadth of the shoulders that he was either still a teenager or only in his early twenties. Great, she was being "saved" by a student who thought himself omniscient. She'd have a hell of a time convincing him of the falsity of _that_ egotistical belief later. She still had enough presence of mind to realize that his knowledge of her meant that she'd have to fully comprehend the situation and debrief him before she could let him go. Plus, she'd have to remember everything after she sobered up. The poor kid had volunteered himself for a long night of Jodie-sitting, she gleefully thought, potential punishments flitting through her mind. If she was stuck with him, she'd make him fully suffer the consequences of his unwanted intrusion.

What else had he mentioned? _That's right, he knows where I live_, she thought with satisfaction at her feat of memory. _Wait a minute, he knows where I live?!_

She wrenched herself off of his arm and back into the brick façade of the building they were currently passing. The continued rain poured down her hair and into her face anew. Her body was sluggish, but that last thought had jolted her mind into activity. She recounted her deductions and matched possible identities to the facts. _I was visibly recognized by a teenage boy who knows both my profession and my place of residence…_

The pieces finally arranged themselves into a semblance of order in her mind. The dark skin of the arm already reaching back toward her only confirmed what she'd deduced. She was being rescued by the infamous Detective of the West, Hattori Heiji. He'd visited her house back while she'd been teaching with Cool Kid. The connection to the elementary school detective eased her tense muscles and banished the troubled thoughts she'd been entertaining about the unexpected man's identity. Exhausted by her logical analysis, she had enough strength remaining to smile at the tenacious teen and remove her key from her pocket as her body slid down the wet wall and her eyes slid closed.

* * *

She awoke to the smell of hot coffee and cup ramen. _Damn you, ramen_, she thought, stretching on what she recognized as her own bed. She didn't see the Hattori boy, but from the slurping she could hear, she placed him in the kitchen. That was just as well, as he'd courteously declined to change her out of her rain-soaked clothing before leaving her to sleep off her afternoon indulgence. She quickly changed and went into the bathroom to throw some water on her face. She still felt awful, but at least now it was confined to her interior. She looked in the mirror to check the intimidation factor of her semi-recovered face. Nodding to herself in satisfaction, she stormed to the kitchen intent on getting answers. And perhaps some of that coffee. 

Now was the time to engage in some major interrogation. Where the hell had the kid come from? Intentionally walking past him to the coffee pot, she poured herself a mug. "What brings you to Tokyo, hotshot?" Finally turning around to face him, she hid her smirk behind the mug she'd raised to her lips. She _loved_ this bathrobe.

* * *

Hattori's eyes bugged out and his cheeks burned as he tried to avoid staring at the ample amounts of skin that were exposed to his overactive teenage mind. Stuttering, he turned his head to the side while wracking his steaming brains for an answer to her question. "Err, not much?" he tried. 

The truth was that Kudou'd called in another favor. If the kid ever got back to his proper size, he was on track to be Hattori's assistant for life. While he hadn't been too forthcoming with details, paranoid bastard that he was, Hattori did know that helping the blonde American was his task. Trying to salvage both the situation and his pride, he continued. "How've you been?"

The mug's progression to her lips was entirely halted. He saw her eyes become shadowed as she lowered them to her slippered feet. He attempted his usual levity, "That good, huh?"

She seemingly ignored him, moving to the glass cabinet and reaching for a bottle of something that looked entirely too strong for someone who hadn't recovered from their last alcoholic binge. "Wait, maybe ya shouldn't…" He trailed off as she'd forgone the glass and emptied the bottle in front of his eyes. He finally coaxed a reaction out of her, "Whoa. Honestly, I don't know whether I'm impressed or terrified."

She chuckled, then suddenly dropped the bottle as her legs failed again. He jumped up and just caught her before she would have cracked her head open on the corner of the table. She seemed entirely ungrateful, muttering darkly in English about noodles and rain.

"Are you hungry? You should try to eat something," he said as he glanced at the second cup of ramen he'd made for her and its accompanying chopsticks. He maneuvered her into a sitting position and placed them in front of her. She didn't seem to have heard him and he shook her shoulder to get her attention. When he was sure she was looking at him he ordered, "Oi! Eat the ramen!"

"Of course, it had to be ramen," she continued in English, but obediently separated the chopsticks anyway. She fumbled with them a bit as Hattori put himself back into the chair he'd previously occupied across from her. Watching her fight with the chopsticks was very amusing, and her slouching in the seat prevented the bathrobe from being a problem. This was turning into a most amusing night, as her ramblings in English grew more and more adult, if less and less coherent. She must really take her teaching job seriously, he mentally laughed.

His inattention almost cost him dearly as she forcefully threw the chopsticks away without warning, nearly nailing the rapidly paling Hattori to the fridge. He dove at the last second and avoided nasty splinters and an early death via tiny wooden eating utensils. That would've made a nice tombstone, he thought randomly. She finally acknowledged his presence.

"Why did you serve me the damn ramen?! I have perfectly good sushi somewhere!"

The near-death experience didn't temper his sense of humor at all. "Shoganai, shoga nai," (It couldn't be helped, there's no ginger) he chuckled, and then had to dodge her mug sailing toward his face. "Damn it, woman, stop being so violent! It was a joke!"

A look at her revealed not the anger he expected at the terribly lame pun and subsequent flying mug, but an out-of-control laughing fit. Apparently, he'd been unlucky enough to be in the way of the mug as she lost control over her hand in her hilarity. Seriously freaked out, as there was no way anyone could consider that pun guffaw-worthy, let alone worth the sustained fit he was now witnessing, he waited for the other proverbial shoe to drop.

And waited.

Her laughing wasn't ceasing. Still in English, she asked around waves of laughter, "Your Japanese is so wonderful! Will you teach me how to pun, too?"

He was torn between intense pride that she'd finally admitted Kansai-ben to be true Japanese, enough to want to learn it, and concern over her huge mood swings. He considered the facts. He remembered Kudou's vague request and even more vague details. Eventually his deduction took shape. He walked over to her and laid his hand on her shoulder a second time. "What's wrong?" he inquired softly.

The tender gesture elicited yet another unexpected response, as she turned to face him and buried her head in his shirt. Sobbing, she clutched him as he tentatively returned the hug. He knew he was crap at comforting others, so he nervously allowed the contact, praying she'd cry herself out soon. When her tears slowed down, he heard her breathing deepen and he awkwardly patted her head. He thought she was asleep until he heard her whisper, "My partner's dead."

With that short preamble, she pulled down on his shirt and raised her head to meet his lips in a sad, slow kiss.

Unable to process this latest twist, seconds passed as he tried to muster the mental energy to comprehend the possible meanings behind this action. Tears had silently started down her face again, and he absently wiped away one trail with his right hand. The other went to her shoulder, and he gently pushed her away.

"Are ya sure ya've had enough time to adjust before ya start another relationship? Seems to me like ya were close to yer old partner." Hoping this reference was enough to remind her of his identity, he continued to look at her, awaiting her response. He was graced with yet another chuckle, and his eyebrow quirked in question.

"My Bureau partner. And we were. Close, that is. But not like this." She closed her eyes and reached up for him again.

As they kissed a second time, Hattori decided that she was a frisky drunk. He definitely felt that he deserved a glass of whatever she'd been having earlier for his troubles as he gently disengaged himself again. She was stable as he removed his hands from her robe, so he determined that she had recovered sufficiently and no longer needed his physical support.

"Just how much did ya have to drink?" he wondered aloud as he returned to his seat.

She didn't respond, so Hattori tacked "brooding" on to his list of adjectives to describe her intoxicated state. "Hmm, your first name is Heiji, right?" Warily, he confirmed this fact with a nod. She steepled her chin in her right hand and leaned forward on the table.

"I've been wondering this for a while. The kanji for 'ji' can also be read 'ni,' (two) right? So that makes you Hattori Hei-ni, the number two teenage detective in Japan!" She beamed at him from across the table.

Insulted beyond belief, he asked without thinking, "Then who's good enough to be number one?"

"Kudou Shin-ichi (one) of course!" She started laughing again. His face was a grimace of undiluted loathing for his (as of this moment) former friend. He decided to correct her mistake immediately. His teeth ground in resentment at aforementioned Ichiban Detective-san (Mr. Number-one Detective) since he was the reason he'd gotten into this crazy situation to begin with.

"Actually, the kanji in my name can't be read 'ni,' though it can be read 'tsugi,' (next)" he replied testily.

She didn't seem to pick up on his abrupt mood reversal, as she continued, "Then it's still ok! You're the next detective after Kudou Shinichi!" She seemed to be thinking again as he imagined newer and more painful ways to bend Kudou to his will when he came to collect all of the favors Kudou'd accumulated from him. She spoke up again, "Then who would be number three? Ah! Hakuba San-guru!" and she succumbed again to her laughter.

Even he laughed a little at this ridiculous continuation, satisfying the three-joke rule. He was considering letting his anger go when she asked him, "So how was that? Do I have potential in Japanese puns?"

Such a question required serious consideration, so he took his time collecting his thoughts for his response. Enough time for her to think she was being ignored, since she wheedled, "Come on, tell me, niban-sensei! (my teacher, Mr. Number-Two)"

Only the still slightly steaming cup of ramen on the table that would have spilled onto her lap prevented him from splitting the table neatly into two pieces.

* * *

Standing outside the apartment complex several hours later, he reluctantly remembered the unfortunate nickname he'd acquired. He turned around to head back to Osaka with a smile on his face. Chuckling as he wrapped his coat around himself, he decided it'd been worth it.

* * *

When she woke up several hours after that, her blankets were on the floor. Curiously, she still had her glasses on. Rearranging her robe, she stumbled into the bathroom and blinked owlishly at the no longer reflective mirror. Though her head still pounded, she laughed for several minutes as she identified the lipstick-inked message as a love note of puns, ended in a cell phone number. _What a fun kid. Will DEFINITELY have to give him a call again._

Shuu was still gone, but that wouldn't stop her from being able to laugh and enjoy life.

* * *

Endnotes: 

Tadaa! I liked that one a lot more. As for what happened after the kitchen, I leave that up to your capable imaginations.

Yes, I based the chopsticks ploy off of my own inadequacy. But look how useful that ramen cup became! Though I did violate the three-joke rule, heh.

I'm thinking the next chapter should be less dramatic, so it'll probably be someone Heiji's age, though I'm pretty sure it'll be a boy. There is such a lack of good yaoi stories! I hope I can write one that'll help lessen that unfortunate shortcoming of this website.

Yes, that plotline was dependent upon getting Jodie sloshed, but the bad jokes that came after it hopefully covered up the holes in the plot. Wait, there was a plot? News to me, too.

I'm a shameless everyone-shipper, which means I'll take requests. This is a long-term project, and with this chapter, hopefully a good learning experience, too.


	3. Kaito Kid: Art of Psychological Warfare

No real spoilers. Cross with Magic Kaitou. New fandom for me (kind of), but the fact remains that none of the characters are mine.

Warning: language, almost male/male. Perhaps you should also be warned of my transliteration of Heiji's accent and blatant oversimplification of the characterizations of the MK gang.

Pairing 3: Heiji/Kaito Kid. The Art of Psychological Warfare: All's fair in love and one-upmanship.

* * *

The Art of Psychological Warfare

Hattori Heiji, son of a high-ranking Osakan police chief, petulantly and futilely tugged on the constraining tie around his neck. He hated formalwear with a passion and had spent the better part of the night thus far attempting to dispose of as much of the monkey suit as he could. So far, he had accomplished only the removal of the cufflinks, as his mother had anticipated his reticence in her choice for his clothing and was keeping a much closer eye than usual on him tonight. Dressed up like his mother's ill-tempered toy, he was dutifully being carted around the ballroom and introduced to various other high-ranking police figures from all around Japan.

Whenever he wasn't scrutinizing his mother for inattention, his eyes strayed to the large jewel on display in the center of the room, which was the only reason he'd agreed to come in the first place. It was the object of the Kaitou Kid heist about to take place, an obscenely large sapphire that was as interesting to Heiji as was the thought of the Takarazakura theater Kazuha'd almost managed to drag him to.

Tonight's exercise was to be a solo affair. He'd rather smugly told poor, invitation-less Kudou to leave the Kid situation to him. After all, it was his turn to have his own confrontation with the Kid! He rarely visited Osaka, and the one time he'd actually been in town during the Kid's scheduled heist, he'd injured himself only to allow Kudou to eventually catch up to him.

Heiji knew that he was just as good as – if not better than – Kudou as a detective, and it was about damn time for the Kid to know it, too! Plus, he wanted to find out as much as he could about the fascinatingly slippery jewel thief, as Kudou had become increasingly tight-lipped about the subject. The stingy runt fell into resentful silence whenever Heiji tried to get any information from him. He was entitled to that information as Kudou's best friend and impromptu secret keeper, he stewed indignantly, especially considering all the crap Kudou forced him to do in his place.

The tables had turned, and Heiji was going to be the one who confronted the Kid tonight. The farther around the clock its hands wound, the tauter with excitement he felt his nerves coiling. He glanced across the ballroom again, finally noticed a legitimate reason to excuse himself from his mother's odious company, and he was off.

He pulled off the tie with a sigh of heartfelt relief as he dashed around the elegantly dressed people obstructing his path to Hakuba Saguru, son of yet another high-ranking Japanese police official, and Kaitou Kid's Number One (unofficially) acknowledged rival. He truly couldn't blame the Kid, Hakuba was as annoying as they came and had a long-running losing streak versus the Kid that Heiji had no desire to similarly accrue. He was, however, a good source of information, which Heiji himself was sadly lacking at the moment, since Kudou'd decided to be spiteful. He could see Hakuba rolling his eyes at his approach and mentally snickered at the subtle hostility. He therefore announced himself in his usual, belligerent fashion.

"Oi, Hakuba! Need some help setting up your bear traps for the Kid? I know y're upset by the Task Force's refusal to yer proposition ta try'n seduce him, but ya shouldn't let that stop ya from setting up yer ultimately useless little distraction devices."

Hakuba appeared to have brought his friends with him, as Heiji didn't recognize the two high-schoolers, one girl and one boy, behind the Brit as the children of other district officials from prior fancy police events. He observed their three very different reactions to his dramatic entrance with interest. Hakuba's strict non-reaction was to be expected, and the girl to his right looked scandalized at his irreverence. Closer up, he now successfully identified her as the daughter of Nakamori Ginzou, head of the Kaitou Kid Task Force. The third's face was still wasn't identifiable, though he felt a twinge of recognition, but his reaction was the most satisfying. Heiji recognized a fellow humor-lover as the unknown teen held back his laughter with mixed results.

"Hattori Heiji, what a pleasant surprise. A heist isn't complete until you show up to ruin the carefully crafted plans of those actually in charge and allow the thief to literally steal away."

Feigning hurt, Heiji held his right hand over his heart as his left flew to his forehead. Before he could respond to the jibe, however, the mystery man spoke up from behind Hakuba. "Hattori Heiji? Oh great, another detective," he lamented.

Nakamori Aoko hastily explained his rudness. "Kaito's a big fan of Kaitou Kid, being a fellow magician and all. He gets irritated on behalf of the Kid a lot, but he always helps Dad figure out the Kid's tricks."

Heiji felt glad of the name to give the face, as the nagging tickle in his memory had been growing more and more annoying the more he studied it. "Eh, well I'll tell ya what, kid. I'm gonna give ya the chance to meet yer idol in person here tonight when I catch'im!"

This statement won Nakamori over as she thrust her fist in the air and sent her dress' fancy wrap flying off into the crowd. Hakuba merely rolled his eyes again, and the Kaito kid's eyes glowed in … mirth? No, that wasn't it. It didn't make any sense, but that look almost resembled challenge. Suspiciously, Heiji raised a single eyebrow in return. _I'll figured you out just like I figured out Kudou, and in enough time to capture the Kid and rub it in both your secretive faces! It's a detective's job to solve mysteries, after all._ Satisfied with his mentally-issued challenge, Heiji decided to check out the preparations of the Task Force. He ambled away from the three Ekota teens, whistling in merriment.

_Bring it, Kaito. Bring it, Kid._

* * *

Well, that exchange had been quite amusing. Kaito'd of course seen the Western Detective in person prior only briefly, but in the guise of Hakuba. He still wasn't sure whether Hattori knew that, or not, though he suspected Kudou'd known right from the outset. In the wake in the present of the Osakan teen, Hakuba had been left brooding, acting even more British and luckily less observant than usual. It'd be impossible to cure Aoko of her righteous anti-Kid energy before he needed to slip off for a few minutes. That was ok, in her state of distraction he'd be gone and back before she even realized. 

He was glad that Hattori'd shown up, because he was intensely curious about the kid who'd been able to figure Kudou out without making the chibi resent him the way he did the Kid. In fact, he was almost indebted to Hattori, since his surveillance of his conversations with Kudou, then simply Edogawa Conan, had helped to reveal the true identity of the troublesome little detective.

He'd respected Kudou's opinion of the teen enough to take extra precautions in his plan tonight to prevent undue interruptions from potentially dangerous kendo-wielding opponents. And from the look in the eyes set in that dark skin, Hattori was feeling equally anticipatory for their inevitable meeting.

_Oh yeah, this's gonna be fun._

* * *

With less than twenty-five minutes to go before Kid's announced arrival time, Heiji felt unusually tense. Due to his earlier bravado, he'd been unable to get any information out of Hakuba at all, and he blamed his ego for the loss. It couldn't be helped, as he jogged down the hallway to a less-crowded bathroom, he knew he'd have to swallow his pride and beg Kudou for last-minute info. Hell, he didn't even know many of the Kid's preferred methods, besides his propensity for stealing identities and gliding off into the night from rooftops. He'd catch up with Hakuba and the Task Force after mentally equipping himself against the thief. His resentment at his ignorance caused a distraction that in this situation made him a dead weight at best. There was no way he'd blow this chance to one-up Kudou (even if it was Kudou's advice that made that possible). 

He reached the bathroom and was pleased to note the lack of people, but was disappointed at the lack of stalls in which to enclose himself. This was apparently just a refurbished former dressing room, with sinks and mirrors and the occasional chair. The loss of privacy was negligible, however, since he could disguise his conversation should the need arise. He determined the lack of toilets made the room clean enough so leaned against the wall and removed his cell phone from his pocket to call Kudou.

* * *

Kaito couldn't believe his luck. Not only had Hattori himself taken off the vital cufflinks and tie to authenticate his disguise so that his fingerprints dusted them and they were now in Kaito's possession, but the target was also removing himself from the general public, saving many of his more risky contingency plans from having to be implemented. He checked all of his gear by lightly touching its concealed place on his person as he entered the room he'd seen Hattori enter. 

Hattori didn't look up as he entered, and that was all the better for the plan. Not giving Hattori a chance to lift his cell to his ear, Kaito lunged forward and placed his chloroform-soaked rag over Hattori's mouth and nose, shielding the back of his head from violently impacting the wall. This had the unfortunate side-effect of revealing his countenance to the detective, but the tradeoff was acceptable, since everything was still going according to plan and there'd be nothing left to link solidly back to Kaito.

* * *

He'd been inexplicably attacked by Hakuba's friend Kaito before his phone call could even connect. Coincidentally, he'd been chewing on his tongue in anxiety as he psyched himself up to do something very against his nature, namely, beg Kudou for his help. His tongue was still between his teeth when he'd been unexpectedly slammed into the wall, and the pain of the bite was just enough to help the him avoid complete unconsciousness. He let the cell phone fall to the ground and relaxed his arms before closing his eyes, hoping to lead the Kid disguised as Kaito into thinking he'd lost his fight against the drug. He also focused on the pain in his tongue to prevent that appearance from becoming fact. He was forced to let blood fill his mouth as a swallow would prove his lucidity to the thief still observing him carefully. 

He was about to lose the fight with his swallowing reflex as the Kid finally was satisfied that he was unconscious and pulled away. Free to breathe, Heiji tried not to too obviously gulp in non-poisoned air while painfully and incrementally swallowing the collected blood in his mouth.

"I only chose you because I respect you so much, Hattori-Tantei."

His cell phone was picked up and flipped closed and he heard rustling noises. Trying his best not to alert the Kid to his wakefulness, he cracked an eye and hoped to catch a glimpse of the true Kaitou Kid as he peeled off his Kaito disguise. He was feeling an odd sense of déjà vu, that he'd already experienced this or something similar to this before. It wasn't until he heard his voice come out of the Kid with the slightly off-kilter fake Kansai-ben that the pieces slid together into one, coherent whole.

"M' name's Hattori Heiji, I'm a second-year student at Kaihou High."

Instinctively checking for the evidence to prove his theory, he swept the floor of the room with his one, squinting eye. He was not surprised when he didn't spy a Kaito mask on the floor.

The parallels between the two situations were staggering. In a dangerous spot, two boys had assumed flimsy yet surprisingly hardy disguises to protect their identities from the groups following them. Upon realizing the threat posed by a certain Western Detective, both had realized the futility of scrapping all plans because of his interference when work was unavoidable. Both had crappy Kansai-ben, too._Holy hotcakes_, Heiji realized, _he looks exactly like teenage Kudou!_ He'd only seen his friend's true form the once, until now, when his mind recalled the visage of him that he'd seen reflected in Hakuba's friend's face. Even his _voice_ was damn near identical! _What a staggering coincidence_. Heiji's admittedly somewhat scrambled genius intellect boggled at the astronomically infinitesimal odds of this occurrence.

Heiji continued his consideration of the parallelism of his unraveling of Kudou's and now Kaito's secrets while the Kid rehearsed in increasingly better Kansai-ben. Kudou knocked me out with his hypodermic needle while the Kid used the age-old standby chloroform-on-a-rag. Kudou added glasses to hide his conspicuous looks while Kid uses his own name as a pun to hide in plain sight. On top of that, they look and sound exactly alike as teenagers!

The Kid had apparently finished practicing and Hattori quickly closed his eye as he felt rather than saw the teen approach his prone form. Halting as many of his physiological voluntary processes as possible, yet failing to completely calm the rapid beating of his heart, he cursed his own weakness as he knew the Kid would easily overpower him should he notice his state of consciousness.

His fears weren't realized, since the Kid didn't do anything other than apparently scrutinize him as he lay helpless against the wall of the bathroom. He hoped his dark skin would hide the blush he was unable to suppress and could feel climbing his neck in reaction to the continued stare of the thief above him. Heiji was unhappy at his inability to move and confused as hell. If his internal time could be believed, it was near the time announced for the thief's arrival. What was the hold up with the heist? He got the shock of his life and a simultaneous test of his deception as a warm hand reached up and cupped his cheek.

* * *

Feeling more uncomfortable in his current disguise than he'd ever admit, Kaito was feeling unusually introspective. He'd allotted enough time to practice the pronunciation to perfect Hattori's strange Western accent. All he'd needed to do was practice actually forming the sounds he'd been hearing and studying for the last several weeks from his recordings of the detective in preparation for tonight's heist. Everything was working out perfectly, yet he still felt apprehensive and ill-at-ease with the boy slumped onto the fancy marble wall. 

This was Kudou's best friend despite the small-fry's protestations to the contrary. His earlier arrogance had been immeasurably annoying while somehow remaining playfully endearing. What was it about this kid that caused so much trust in the suspicious and paranoid as hell Kudou? Before he could stop himself, he had leaned forward and cupped the detective's face in the palm of a hand. Knowing he couldn't respond, he whispered in his actual voice the question that had been plaguing him practically since the moment he learned of his existence.

"What is it about you…?"

If what Kudou felt about Hattori was the feeling coursing through him as he gazed upon the sleeping face that he was borrowing, then he could completely understand Kudou's undying interest and indulgence of the unruly teen. Perhaps since their encounter had been so delayed, that was why he was so intensely feeling the connection between them. It must be the result of long-denied release from the tension that accompanied every troubling meeting with even more troubling detectives.

The preoccupied Kaito felt helpless staring back at the slack face. Unaccountably saddened at the thought of anger being directed at him from those eyes, he leaned in towards the peaceful features and closed his eyes as he remembered the detective's earlier words. "Baka. Like Hakuba'd be able to seduce me." He rested his forehead against Hattori's slightly feverish one. When he had the sudden urge to join their lips as well he leaned back, wondering where the impulse had sprung up from. He sighed as he was unable to describe his reaction to the dark-skinned teen as anything other than enthralled. Rubbing the pad of his thumb across Hattori's cheek, he reluctantly dropped his arm and stood up. He replaced Hattori's cell phone open and next to him on the floor. Straightening out his disguise and doing a final check on his faux face in the mirror, he addressed his slumbering audience of one with his perfected Western Detective's voice.

"It's showtime!"

* * *

As soon as the door closed behind the thief, Heiji gratefully slid down the wall and lay completely on the floor. _What the hell just happened?_ When he'd felt the fingers on his face, he'd completely lost track of any and all thoughts that he had been entertaining. 

He felt the night before his trip to the bathroom had been ages ago, so tumultuous were the emotions and newly-created half-formed thoughts running through his body and mind. The adrenaline that had been coursing through his veins finally asserted itself as Heiji got up and headed back out to the party on shaky legs. The Kid had lost his trump card, and also had revealed a potential weakness. As Hattori's own relationship with Kudou following his revealing of his knowledge implied, the Kid was about to be ineradicably drawn back to Heiji. The thief had his interest piqued. He had no idea what had been running through the Kid's mind and was itching with curiosity.

While his confusion still hadn't completely abated, his smugness over the rest of his deductions was enough for him to consider the Kid's situation before he irrevocably devastated the Kid's life.

He knew the true identity of Kaitou Kid. The Kid hadn't been sloppy enough to leave evidence behind, but with his eye-witness testimony and sharp eye for detail, now that he knew what to look for, at least, it'd only be a matter of time before he could implicate the Kid. His sense of justice and ego demanded turning in the thief.

The Kid stole, but if one considered that all items were almost immediately returned, his action could be labelled 'borrowing them' or even 'giving them a brief air show' rather than 'stealing them.'

And what about the second part of that earlier thought? Did he only want to turn the thief in to get the credit? He knew he was better than Kudou, dammit, and that meant that many more opportunities would arise in the future that he could use to prove his dominance in detective work. He mentally cackled at his own superiority before returning to his original train of thought.

Kudou, who the Kid so much reminded him of, had a damn good reason to hide his identity._He's not exactly breaking the law going around living as a kid, though_. If only to learn more about the Kid and find the perfect moment to spring his trap on him, he'd hear the thief out before deciding whether his reason was as good as Kudou's. If anything, he now knew how to distract the Kid with little to no effort. He was a good judge of character, and hadn't felt that either Kaito or the Kid were bad people. He left the room to seek out the Kid for their first mutual encounter. If he was deriving not a little pleasure from being able to hold something over on Kudou as well for once, well, that was still perfectly acceptable.

* * *

Kaito'd had a blast tonight, as the entire hall was filled with cops to piss off rather than the normal clueless pedestrians who simply got in his way usually. It was too bad Hattori couldn't be around to witness his brilliant plan in action. He found a bathroom and quickly shed his disguise before returning to the party. _Wonder if Sleeping Beauty regained consciousness?_ Kaito pondered, before blushing and remembering that that particular analogous situation had required a kiss to wake up the poisoned victim. In his case, he'd been close to providing it himself. 

He got the answer to his own question when he saw Hattori standing with Hakuba and Aoko. _He's already completely recovered? That's some stamina_, he thought, then blushed again at the direction of his thoughts. Why did thinking of Hattori feel equivalent to having taken leave of his wits and senses? These were not normal trains of thought.

Abruptly nervous for some unfathomable reason, he felt the introspection he'd abandoned in favor of the heist return as his adrenaline high wore off. The object of those earlier thoughts must've triggered them, he figured. He glanced at the detective in question warily. The gleam in Hattori's eyes was more than slightly disconcerting, and Kaito gulped as he approached.

"Alrigh', there, Kaito-kun?" Hattori asked with an edge to his tone.

Quizzically, he turned to Aoko, his stalwart supporter while uncaped. She enthusiastically launched into another round of Kid-bashing. "Hattori-san was just telling us how the Kid was impersonating you! I can't believe that stupid thief! He's so awful! Dad was so close tonight to catching, him, too, but you didn't get to see it. How long were you out of it, Kaito?" The concern at the end of her mini-rant confused him, and he shrugged his shoulders in response. Where he usually had to act to look as disoriented as a victim of the Kid should be, tonight he was having no trouble at all considering that the renewed insistence of his uncontrollable thoughts and Hattori's piercing stare were combining to make him dizzy as hell.

Even Hakuba looked slightly affected by his performance, though Hattori still watching him somewhat predatorily. _Sure he saw me, but he can't think that I'm the Kid just because of that! _"What?" he matched his cutest voice with his most dazed-looking face, in an attempt to disrupt Hattori's creepy omniscient stare.

Hattori's grin only widened with an I-know-something-you-don't feel that wasn't boding well for Kaito's continued sanity. His response didn't help, either, "Just how long were ya knocked out, Kaitou?"

Kaito mentally recoiled at the drawn out 'o' sound at the end of his name. "Err, that is, my name is Kaito, not Kaitou," he managed to stammer.

Feeling like an idiot at Hattori's continued smirk, he winced internally when the detective demurred, "Sorry. My mistake." Hakuba's eyes narrowed at the Osakan interloper.

Hattori then made his excuses, explaining that he now knew Kaito was alright and should head back to his family. They weren't staying overnight and had to be back in Osaka before they'd be able to sleep. Kaito finally let out the breath he'd been holding, causing Hakuba's glare to be directed back at him. "What a night," he muttered.

* * *

Kaito had almost relaxed when he got the text message on his cell phone later that night. 

_"Can I crash at your place tomorrow? Got your number from Nakamori. My friends're out of town but I've got a case in Tokyo and nowhere to stay. I'm also trying to escape my mother. Apparently it's my fault I lost my cufflinks to the Kaitou Kid while unconscious. And I thought he didn't steal anything. You're saving my ass, man!_

_ -Hattori Heiji"_

Well, shit. That sense of foreboding he'd been sensing all night finally made sense. He suddenly had the feeling that Hattori was going to be around for a long, long time. He wondered if he ought to be more put off by that thought than he apparently was. Whatever trance he'd been under when dealing with Hattori earlier seemed to have dissipated, as he looked forward to their promised rendez-vous with an emotion akin to unholy glee.

And if that wasn't a veiled threat at the Kid, _right there in the mail_, he'd eat his father's hat. He felt a smile spread on his face as he thought of the challenge the detective represented, and how ostentatiously he was going about his investigation. The Kid'd been hiding successfully for near a decade now. This Hattori thinks he can crack the case after a single night? He pointedly ignored his earlier reactions when faced with the scheming detective and stoked his alter-ego a little more. His blood sufficiently ignited and as his excitement grew, he wondered what the detective had planned. Whatever it was, he'd be ready.

_Bring it, O Great Detective of the West_.

* * *

Endnotes: Not really as humorous as I'd envisioned it originally. For this pairing, I get the feeling nothing other than a massive epic would do to it justice, considering that I researched but couldn't find as much as a direct confrontation between these two in the 500 or so anime episodes, the 10 movies I've seen, or the 630ish manga chapters. 

The parents are running around in that ballroom, somewhere. They're, well, busy with the heist! Yes, that's right! And as for a heist notice, or even a heist, you can see how well I thought'd I'd written out the brainteasers and action scenes. With Heiji's massive brain, I took away his ability to lash out and gave it a workout instead. As for where Kaito's befuddlement came from... whistles and points to nifty plot device drawer

If there's any romance there, it's so vague that I can barely see it, even though I wrote it. I know where I tried to write it and wimped out. I thought it was too fast, considering I felt like I was writing their even just social relationship from scratch. There are huge reputational expectations on both sides, but no personal knowledge. (Except for Kaito's secret files where he stalked Heiji for info first on the squirt and then for the heist.) Call this a pre-romance fic, I guess. There's definitely more of the story to be told, but that's all I've got (at least at the moment).

It could be that Kaito merely senses a kindred spirit in Hattori, who is apparently destined to become the repository for all unconveyable secrets. Poor kid doesn't get much intrigue of his own, so he has to share with his friends. Speaking of his friends, since Kudou was the one with the tangible connection to the Kid, so he got brought up all over the place here. I think I even implied a little Heiji/Shinichi there in Kaito's mind, and in my mind Heiji got petulant (surprise, surprise) when he next met Kudou. None of that came to fruition, and I think I'm deciding I'm crap at romance. Hopefully it was at least plausible given the crazy playfulness I tried to get across in their characters. Though I imagine if they were to actually meet c.o. Aoyama-sensei, there'd be many more explosions. grin

This was mostly just me poking fun at the fact that Kaito and Shinichi look alike and the fact that they're voiced by the same (fantastic) guy unfortunately for the fic here links them in my mind. Also, it's got some of my deductions littered throughout it, including Heiji's crazy rebounding karma. He gets knocked off a cruise ship but saved by a random passing boat. He gets shot but barely takes any damage. He was given the evidence Ran's been denied time and time again to prove Conan's identity, in addition to being spared the attention of the Black Org for his connection to Kudou Shinichi. Coincidence? As this installment seems to show, I think not.

Next chapter I'll try to turn up the romance factor, since ostensibly that's the premise. It'll be Heiji/Natsuki and much less half-assed that this was. I apologize for that by the way. If you're reading this far, you're a saint and I dedicate my to-be-written future masterwork to you.


End file.
